<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Weight of the World by constantconfusion14</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545638">Weight of the World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantconfusion14/pseuds/constantconfusion14'>constantconfusion14</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MLB Oneshots [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adrien and Plagg, Comfort, Gen, It's loving Plagg hours, It's the fluff we all need from these two, Plagg needs a hug, Starts out with some angst but ends very happily, not beta read and barely edited lol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:27:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/constantconfusion14/pseuds/constantconfusion14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Plagg hates Friday the 13th and all it stands for. Thankfully, his chosen stands for something other than destruction and bad luck.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MLB Oneshots [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Weight of the World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I heard a while ago that Friday the 13th's are Plagg appreciation days and who am I to object? So here's some Plagg and Adrien bonding because goodness knows I'll never get enough of it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>No one said his life was going to be easy. But then again, no one had asked him if he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to become the embodiment of destruction and chaos. No one warned him of the evils he would face, of the bonds he’d make, of the friends he’d lose. No one warned him of the life he was destined to live forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the curse of all kwami’s, though. Plagg was thankful he had others by his side throughout the millennia. He couldn’t imagine going through something like this alone. Seeing entire civilizations rise and fall in the blink of an eye. Being released with his miraculous long enough to see a wielder live out their life, experiencing every slow day alongside them. Only to have them pass peacefully and return to the Miracle Box. The next time he blinked, the century was gone and people had changed completely. No one remembered his black cats. His kittens had been lost to the expanse of time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An experience such as this was less frequent among the kwami’s, something the more powerful one suffered more frequently, due to being released into the world more often. Plagg knew he could always strike up a discussion with Tikki if he were ever feeling particularly nostalgic. She had a knack for recalling the best memories. Times of happiness, peace and creation. Tikki could speak of the brightest moments, when everything shined with luck. That was her curse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plagg had a habit of focusing on the grittier memories, the ones that really showed some good character development in their wielders. He could remember extreme times of distress, when Ladybugs and Black Cats thought they were meeting their demises. Sometimes they were wrong. Most of the time...well, there was a reason Plagg was more familiar with these memories than Tikki. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad luck. Plagg scoffed at the idea. He was so often associated with the notion because of some simple characteristics. The entire superstition was stupid. Black cats weren’t even a bad omen in </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> cultures. He wasn’t unlucky. He wasn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was just...destructive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plagg looked out the window that Adrien had left open. He was curled up on the thin window pane, watching Paris as it slept. Lights across the city twinkled peacefully, looking like a fire that was slowly dying out. Tikki probably would’ve compared them to something else...like fireflies or fairies or a child’s dream. Plagg scrunched his nose up at the thought. Even thinking such things made him want to laugh. It was all too mushy, too sickly sweet of a sentiment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the dark, cool night, Plagg saw the lights as embers floating down from the sky. Each softly glowing with its remaining fire before touching the cool ground and extinguishing itself for the night. He saw the darkness of the night like an ocean wave, washing over the city and flooding the streets with its deep blue expanse. It didn’t matter what Plagg was looking at, he would always see destruction and damage. As the kwami of the Black Cat miraculous, it’s just who he was. He’d never be able to change that. Whether or not the matter made him sad was something he’d stopped focusing on a while ago. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was like Hades from the Greek myths. A poor sap who just </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be put in charge of something people often saw as a ‘bad thing’. Was it Hades fault that he was the god of the underworld? No. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to do the job and it just happened to be him. Did that make him the villain? Did that make him evil? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It shouldn’t have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But if there’s one thing Plagg had learned over the centuries, it was that people tended to fear what they could not understand. Humans were not very good at understanding loss. It caused feelings of grief and pain so they pushed it away; shunned it despite all the good that could come of it. Plagg wasn’t a serial destroyer. He didn’t go around wreaking havoc because he wanted to (well, he didn’t do that </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the time). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plagg destroyed things so the world could maintain its balance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d seen Tikki do absolutely awful things with her powers of creation before. She was the one who had the power to create weapons and lies. She could bring anything into existence on a whim, potentially causing the downfall of entire civilizations. The issue was, people never blamed the weapon. All they could see was the destruction it had caused. All they could do was blame him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kwami sighed again heavily, hearing a clock somewhere in the mansion strike 12 times. Midnight. Meaning the new day had begun. Meaning it was Plagg’s least favorite day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A day of bad luck, where people </span>
  <em>
    <span>swore</span>
  </em>
  <span> that things would go wrong simply because a certain number lined up with a certain weekday. Friday the 13th was nothing more than some whack-jobs trying to find something to blame other than their own actions. It was a scapegoat and all it all fell on Plagg’s shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Call it the mystical universe-power, but Plagg never felt right on these days. They only happened a few times a year, thankfully, but they were always the worst. He was cold and uncomfortable and just generally unhappy. Thankfully, he’d be able to see Tikki today. She always knew how to cheer him up on days like this. He just had to wait until he could see her in...9ish hours. Great. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Plagg?” Adrien’s suddenly voice floated through the air, still drenched in sleep. The kwami quickly turned around to meet his chosen. The boy was sitting on the end of his bed, rubbing his eyes wearily. “Why’re you sti’ awake?” He slurred his word and blinked heavily, trying to wake up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plagg smiled gently, unable to ignore the warm feeling that filled his chest at the sight of a half-awake Adrien. Something about it just plucked his tiny heart strings. Maybe it was the vulnerability, the fact that Adrien let willingly let himself sleep in the presence of such destruction. It was a deep level of trust. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Adrien could never know that. “A better question is why aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>awake?” Plagg flew over and hovered in the air next to the kid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adrien’s eyes were still half open, but he looked over confusedly. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> awake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ohh, an opportunity!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Plagg smiled mischievously, unable to resist the temptation to mess with the poor kid. “No, Adrien. This is a dream. You’re asleep right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adrien looked around his room suspiciously. “No I’m not…” His voice was wary and Plagg knew he was already falling for the ruse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kwami scoffed, devoting himself fully to the act. “Yeah, and I’m not the kwami of destruction. Come on kid, it’s called lucid dreaming. You recognize it’s a dream but you’re still asleep. Pretty cool, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adrien drowsily inspected his hands, a gleeful smile spreading across his face. “Woah. That is pretty cool.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gullible. So, so, so sweetly gullible. This is why this kid needed Plagg in his life. It wasn’t so they could become Chat Noir. It was so Adrien didn’t fall for stupid things like this. Clearly, if left to his own devices, he would be no match for the world. “The best thing about lucid dreaming is that you can force your dream to do what you want it to. So, you want to fly? You can make yourself fly. Want to see the seven wonders of the world? You can do that, too. It’s like having a superpower.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Messy blonde hair plagued by bedhead toppled over Adrien’s eyes as he tilted his head to the side. “I already have superpowers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, those are lame. Who would wish for the power of destruction? You could do way cooler things.” Plagg floated on his back, pretending to be completely relaxed. In truth though, Adrien would never realize just how much Plagg meant what he’d said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kid rubbed his face again, allowing his eyes to slip closed fully. He looked like he was going to fall back asleep any second. “Destruction is cool, though. It’s the bes’. But that’s not what I was talkin’ bout.” Even his words were slurring again and Plagg knew it would be only a few minutes until he was happily snoring again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fueled by curiosity, though, Plagg floated closer to Adrien. “What</span>
  <em>
    <span> were</span>
  </em>
  <span> you talking about, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vibrant green eyes met a matching set as Adrien opened his lids just enough to send Plagg a sleepy, bright smile. “I have you. You’re my superpower, Plagg. Not because you make me Cha’ Noir, but because you’re you. You make me smile an’ laugh and you keep me safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words paralyzed Plagg. It took all his willpower to keep a straight face and not allow his emotions to pour out of him. “You’re the best kin’ of hero, Plagg.” Adrien murmured the words as he nodded off fully and curled up at the end of his bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plagg remained where he was for a while, watching over the kid like a guardian. He bit the inside of his cheek, but his lips and eyes still shook with affection. It never ceased to amaze him how such things flowed from Adrien’s throat so easily. The kid was almost never afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve and tell those around him how much he loved them. He told Plagg ‘I love you!’ almost everyday, a sentiment Plagg had never really verbally returned. It just wasn’t his style. Regardless, Adrien never stopped saying it. He’d insult Plagg or complain about his strange habits or lightly scold him for being reckless but he always expressed his love. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few minutes, the kwami regained movement over his body, finally snapping from his stupor. Without even knowing it, Adrien had told him exactly what he’d needed to hear tonight. Not only that, the kid thought he’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>asleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The chances of him remembering this at all were minimal. Meaning...meaning his words had been from the heart. No deception whatsoever or just telling Plagg what he’d wanted to hear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plagg gently floated over to Adrien’s head and landed in his hair. He kneaded the blonde strands gently, trying to understand why someone would willingly allow Plagg to stay in their lives for reasons other than supernatural powers. Plagg rolled himself into a ball, tucked happily against his chosen, listening to the calming sounds of his breathing. If there was no miraculous or Chat Noir or magic or anything...would Adrien still want Plagg to be in his life?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in a long time, Plagg could say yes. It wasn’t about destruction or creation for once. It was about connection. And the connection between Adrien and Plagg was something that would surely withstand centuries. No amount of time stuck in the Miracle Box could erase this memory. Billions of years from now, Plagg would tell stories of Adrien, the best Black Cat he’d ever had. Not because of his capacity for destruction, but because of his capacity for love. Destruction was only frowned upon because it caused you to appreciate how much you had cared in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that was what he’d been missing all this time. He’d been blind to the reason </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> destruction was so powerful. But now...now he understood. Love really did triumph all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plagg purred loudly. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Plagg appreciation day, everyone!</p>
<p>Feel free to find me on tumblr @constantconfusion14</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>